Centerpiece
by Cadence
Summary: Dreams can be very disturbing.


Centerpiece

In the dream, Buffy, Willow, Cordelia, and Anya sat around a table. The room swam about them and their chiming laughter swirled into the background. Xander thought he felt blood seeping from him. The girls seemed focused on something, the centerpiece of the table. From his vantage on the floor, on his back, he couldn't see the object.

"But, Willow! You know you deserve the largest piece!" gasped Buffy dramatically.

Willow shook her head slowly, "No . . . . I have no real claim anymore. If anyone does, it's Anya."

"Oh, I couldn't . ."

"Why not me?!"

The mutual protests of Anya and Cordelia overlapped surrealistically. Xander thought there was an echo.

Buffy and Willow exchanged contemplative looks. Xander attempted to stand. In the stead of movement came a gurgling cough of blood.

Buffy had a bright idea, "I don't think any of us can decide properly. We should ask Xander."

The others were stunned by the wisdom of her pronouncement. They nodded in awed acknowledgment.

Anya found her voice through her reverence, "I'll go find him."

Xander almost smiled as his girlfriend left the table. The impulse faded as she stepped obliviously over him. Anya disappeared into the misty reality beyond the table. Instants, years, centuries, later she reappeared.

The former demon was inconsolable, sobbing, "He's not here!"

The girls hugged and patted Anya in support while suppressing their own tears.

Xander felt cold.

Cordelia's perfectly lined and colored eyes met those of her fellows in turn, "How are we to decide now?"

Willow watched the table in front of her, "We could share equally."

The girls didn't know how to respond to the whispered suggestion.

Anya was confused, "Is that possible?"

"I suppose," Buffy answered uncertainly, unwilling to commit to a decision.

"Then that settles it," asserted Cordelia. "We share equally."

Unanimously, if hesitantly, the others consented. Xander had the fuzzy impression that one questioned where the knife had gone. Willow remembered.

Willow turned in her seat and asked politely of him, "Would you mind if we take this back?"

Xander nodded numbly and watched as his best friend's small hands pulled at the wicked dagger buried in his chest. The blade did not move.

Buffy leaned in to examine the problem. Willow sighed and pulled again.

With a sage gesture, the Slayer advised, "You'll need better leverage than that, the barbs are fairly dull on that dagger." Absently, she added, "I should get Giles to do something about that."

Willow sat carelessly on Xander, leaned down at an appropriate angle, and pulled. The knife came free with a sickening tearing noise. Xander's eyes widened; this experience was somewhat disturbing.

His best friend returned to the table, the prize held aloft in triumph. Cordelia eyed the blade skeptically.

"Do you really think that's the best cutting utensil?" she asked of the witch.

Buffy, Willow, and Anya shrugged, "Why wouldn't it be.

Cordelia returned the shrugs in kind, "Just a thought."

They set to work. The group seemed to slip gently away from Xander as they joked and cut. He could almost see what all the fuss was about. Words were exchanged about measurement and exactness in cutting. At one point, there was a scuffle between Buffy and Cordelia over whether size and mass were equal. Xander noticed that the hand on his chest was steeped in a sticky fluid. He got the feeling that the fluid was supposed to be warm.

Finally, everything was finished and decided upon. The table was farther away. Xander thought he saw something in Willow's hand.

In the distance, Anya bowed her head in respect to Willow. Words that Xander couldn't hear accompanied the movement. He tried to raise his head to a better view; in response, the table drifted further. Xander shrugged mentally, now he could see.

Willow lifted something red to her lips cheerfully. She took a bite. Chewed. She swallowed and smiled and said something witty. The other followed suit; they all ate their portions. A comment about how she had never thought human heart would taster so sweet was made. Laughter followed. Someone wished there was more.

Xander contemplated this development with little surprise. With all his effort and energy he moved his hand upward. He let it fall. His increasingly nerveless fingers touched blood where his heart should have been.

In the dream, Xander died.

When morning woke him, he blinked away sleep and washed the blood from his shirt.

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Buffy and Co are Trademarks and are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the WB, Fox Television, and whoever else has rights to them. No copyright infringement is intended.

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